Inside Out
by Fell's Blessing
Summary: "Poland, you're so beautiful.  No matter what clothes you wear or what makeup you put on. No matter what you try to change, I'll always feel the same. I will always see you from the inside out." Oneshot, LietPol, lemon, smut, more comfort than hurt


Gah! It appears I've gotten writer's block on HetaOffice. But I've working through it, and this was one exercise I did in order to cure myself of it. I actually started writing this last night at around midnight, and I finished it...at midnight today. xD I hope this is decent, and not too purple prose-y. It's kinda a songfic...but at the same time, it's not. I find this story rather personal for some reasons.

The smut scene here is a little watered-down, mainly because I wanted to make it more emotional than just banging.

This is a reeeallly late Commonwealth anniversary fic. xD But I'll also be writing another one for a contest on dA.

I hope you like this!

**Warnings:** LietPol, crossdressing, lemon, smut  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own Hetalia or the song "Inside Out" by Nate Sallie

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><p><strong>Inside Out<strong>

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><p>6:55.<p>

A bit early, but oh well. Lithuania liked being a bit early when it came to an event such as this. After all, you only celebrated your 442nd anniversary once.

He knocked on the door. Once, twice.

"Poland, are you in there?" he asked.

Something came muffled from the inside of the house. Poland opened the door just a crack. Lithuania saw that half of his hair was unbrushed and a small bit of rouge was smeared on his cheek. His eyes widened in horror when he saw Lithuania. Lithuania, in his nice suit and tie and carrying a bushel of corn poppies. Poland's poppies.

"Ah! L-Liet, why're you here so early?" he exclaimed.

"It's almost seven, Poland. I told you I'd be here at seven."

Poland gasped. "I-I thought you said, like, eight! H-Hold on, Liet! I-I'm not even ready at all!" He slammed the door in his face.

Lithuania sighed and fished out Poland's keys from his wallet. The blond had obviously forgotten that he had given Liet a spare set of keys. He had never quite enjoyed Poland's superficiality, especially in situations just like this.

Lithuania opened the door in time to see Poland sprint up the stairs. The blond had picked out a dark crimson dress to wear that night. It was plainly cut, but Lithuania thought that he pulled it off stunningly, even with his messy hair and half-done makeup.

"Poland, you really don't—"

_Thud!_ Poland had tripped on his high-heels and fallen face-first.

"Poland, are you alright?" Lithuania demanded in alarm. He sprinted iup the stairs.

Poland staggered to his feet, examined his dress, and gasped.

"Th-there's like a tear!"

There was. Right across the side of the dress, stretching from the seam at his waist to his knee.

"Now I totally have to change all my clothes!" he screamed.

"P-Poland." Lithuania finally reached his partner and put a hand on his shoulder. The blond looked perilously close to crying. "Poland, we don't have to go out tonight! We could stay inside."

Poland whirled around at him, and angry tears sparkled in his eyes. "Are you, like, _kidding_? It's our anniversary! I'd never want to celebrate it looking like this."

"Poland, _stop_!"

Poland jerked himself out of Lithuania's grip and ran into his room. A loud slam echoed throughout the house as he shut the door.

Lithuania knocked. "Poland, can you please—?"

"I don't, like, ever wanna come back out!" he shouted at him.

There was a sharp thump as something, which Lithuania presumed was one of his shoes, was flung at the door. A sharp gasp, and then came the sounds of Poland sobbing.

Lithuania sat down and leaned against the door. "Poland, come out. _Please_!"

"L-l-like, no!" A choke. "I-I look like crap, Liet! You'd be horrified if you saw me like this..."

"Don't say that! Don't you _ever_ say that!"

Lithuania twisted the knob. The door was unlocked. He swung it open. Poland sat on the foot of the bed, dangling one of his shoes on the tip of his toes. The skirt of his dress bunched around his waist. Why couldn't he see?

When he looked up and saw Lithuania, Poland grabbed one of his fluffy pink pillows and buried it in his face.

"L-Like, d-don't look, Liet. I-I'm totally hideous, aren't I? You totally w-won't—w-won't..." He began to sob, his body shuddering and shoulders heaving.

"Why do you have to torture yourself like this, Poland?" Lithuania went over to the night stand and grabbed a few tissues. He set the poppies down on the vanity table. At that moment, Lithuania wanted to crush it and all of the pots of makeup and eyeliner pens. Those devices that disguised his real Poland.

He sat down on the bed and placed a hand on Poland's hair. That beautiful, beautiful hair that always radiated like the sun.

"Poland, please remove the pillow," he murmured. "I want to see your face."

A muffled, "W-why?"

"Because you're so beautiful, Poland. I want to look at you."

Poland sniffed and removed the pillow. Any other person would say he looked like a wreck, with his eyes red and swollen and blush and foundation smudged and staining his face.

"Go ahead, Liet. Tell me I'm ugly."

But not Lithuania.

"Where's my Poland?" he asked. He dabbed the tissue on his cheeks and began to reveal the smooth, pale skin. "I can't see him under all of this."

Poland hiccuped. "L-Liet, I-I thought you'd like it."

Lithuania took a clean tissue and wiped the other cheek. "Poland, all of this makeup. It's like a mask. It's hides you. The real you. The real Poland. The man I've fallen in love with."

Poland gulped and incredulously looked at Lithuania. "Wh-what?"

Lithuania had finished and kissed his cheek. Poland smelled of strawberries—a perfume. But underneath it, Lithuania caught the faint scent of rye, of horses, of Poland. A hand tangled itself in his hair, while the other ran down his side, down that silken cocoon, down to the tear.

Poland pulled away. "M-My..."

"You don't have to fix that dress." Lithuania smiled, as his fingers slid through that hair. He was glad that Poland never got the urge to put it up in bizarre hairstyles or corrupt it with spray. It was perfect.

"Your hair's a mess," he said. "But I like it." He chuckled and kissed his lips. Poland tasted wonderfully sweet. He always tasted sweet.

Poland moaned and leaned into him, wrapping his arms around his neck. "L-Liet..." He pulled away again.

"B-But it's our anniversary. It's 442 years since the Union of Lublin. Don't you want to do anything special? M-maybe I should get dressed."

Lithuania grabbed his hand. "Poland, no," he said firmly. "Do you see yourself?"

Poland blinked. "Y-You're kinda blocking the mirror..."

Lithuania sighed. "I didn't mean it like that. Poland, you're so beautiful. No matter what clothes you wear or what makeup you put on. No matter what you try to change, I'll always feel the same." He placed a hand on his heart, on that beating vessel.

Poland stared at Lithuania in absolute shock. "Wh—L-Liet..." He let out a sob and buried his face in his shoulder. "I love you. I love you. Kocham cię."

Lithuania kissed him again. "Aš tave myliu," he murmured.

Poland opened his mouth and invited him to enter. Lithuania explored the walls of his lover's mouth and teasingly slipped his tongue across the other's. Oh Poland. Sweet Poland.

"Let's get you out of that dress," Lithuania said.

Poland gasped. "Liet!"

He froze. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?"

Poland shook his head. "No! Not that. It's just." He lowered his voice. "You, like, sounded so hot when you said that."

Lithuania laughed and unclasped the dress in the back and slipped it off Poland's shoulders.

Poland blushed and looked away. His slim body was perfect, so beautiful, so sexy, so desirable. When he got to his waist, Lithuania's hand trembled slightly at the lacy waistband of his underwear. Poland gave a quick nod and laid down on the bed. The false skin was removed. The dress pooled in a pile on the floor. The blond lay there on the bed, completely naked, the blush never leaving his cheeks.

"Silly Poland," Lithuania said. He kissed him again and ran his hands along the smooth skin, pressing his body against the other's. "You're the most breathtaking person I've ever laid my eyes on."

"L-Liet, shut up!"

He chuckled and moved his lips across his cheek, his jaw, his throat. Poland made a low growl of pleasure and buried his warm fingers in Lithuania's brown locks.

Lithuania's mouth dipped lower and found one of Poland's pink nipples and flicked it lightly with his tongue.

"Ah!" Poland yelped. "Oh, Liet." A nip. "Ah-ah!"

He was just so cute, Lithuania thought, when he whined and begged for pleasure.

He licked the bud one last time and traveled towards Poland's vital regions, nibbling and sucking and leaving a trail of love on his groin, avoiding that one spot where Poland want—_needed _the attention.

"Stop teasing me!" The blond tugged on his hair. "Come _on_, Liet!"

Poland was a rather impatient lover, so Lithuania complied to his demands and wrapped his lips around his half-hard erection. He worked slowly, carefully, wanting his partner to enjoy every moment of this. The hisses and moans from the blond made the front of Lithuania's pants harden uncomfortably. He sucked down hard one last time.

"_Ah! Liet! Please!"_

And released. Lithuania sat up and undid his belt and pants and let them fall onto the bed. He took off his suit and threw his tie on a nearby chair. He heard Poland's breath hitch, and he saw the blond looking at him with simmering half-closed eyes, that wonderful blush painted on his cheeks.

"Th-there's, like, lube. In the drawer." Poland twitched his head slightly.

Lithuania nodded and crawled across the bed to the night stand and pulled out the drawer.

"Watermelon, Poland?" He spread the lube across his fingers.

"I-I thought strawberry was getting totally boring," Poland said. He whispered, "And you like watermelon."

Lithuania kissed him for that.

"You're perfect." He inserted one finger. Poland clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his whine. "I don't want anyone telling you otherwise." Another. His fingers probed into his heat. Poland whined more and clenched the back of Lithuania's shirt. "I will always see you" Lithuania removed his fingers and slicked up his length "from the inside out." He pushed in.

Lithuania shuddered; Poland's warmth contracted around him. No matter how many times he had made love to Poland, it had always felt like that one day in the rye fields, when they had taken off their clothes and shame and became one for the first time.

Poland looked angelic—his gold hair haloing his face, his mouth open in a slight "o", his eyes shut, blood rushing through his cheeks, a small string of saliva coming down his jaw. Lithuania wouldn't give anything to tear his eyes from that sight.

He held onto his hips as he began to thrust. Every moan, whine, and gasp echoed through his ears, those sounds making Lithuania's heart skip a beat and coaxing him to pleasure the small Pole, to make him see that he really was beautiful. And as Lithuania struck his prostate, Poland screamed, and that was enough to tip Lithuania over the edge.

"_L-Lenkija..."_

The brunet collapsed onto him, as Poland's arms pulled him closer.

"G-God, Liet..." he panted. "That was amazing. This was, like, so much better than going out."

Lithuania nestled in the crook of Poland's neck, inhaling the smell of his hair.

"You are beautiful," he murmured. "Don't ever forget that."

Poland giggled. "Oh, Liet. You're totally sweet." He reached and pulled the covers off the bed.

"Already, Poland?" Lithuania asked, helping Poland tear off the sheets. "Last time I checked, it was barely seven."

"Yeah, well, that sex, like, totally tired me out." He kissed his cheek and wriggled the both of them under the covers, turning off the lamp. Lithuania slid off Poland, and the other huggled him into his chest.

"Happy Anniversary, Liet."

"Happy Anniversary, Poland."

They kissed again.

"I love you, Liet."

"I love you too, Poland."

Poland fell asleep instantly, but it took a little longer for Lithuania, mesmerized by Poland's body rising and falling with each breath.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. He placed his hand on Poland's soft cheek. "You're perfect." He pressed his lips to his cheek. "You're amazing." The other cheek. "You're breathtaking." His forehead. "And no matter how much you change, I'll always feel the same, and I love you." He kissed his lips gently. He tightened his hold on Poland and drifted off into sleep.

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><p><em>"You don't have to fix that dress<br>I like it when your hair's a mess  
>That's when you always look the best<br>And I love you._

_No matter what the clothes you wear  
>Or how you do your hair<br>No matter what you try to change  
>I'll always feel the same<br>No matter what the car you drive  
>No makeup face to disguise<br>I'll always see you from the inside  
>The inside out."<em>


End file.
